The Breeding Grounds
Location: Abyss / Layer 7—Kearackinin
Ah, little ones, you wish to hear of the Breeding Grounds? You wish to know how the mighty Lizard Kings are made—how they are torn from their mortal shells and reborn in the image of Sess’innek himself? Then listen well, for this tale is not for the faint of scale. The Breeding Grounds are no place of glory or light. They are a place of pain, transformation, and submission—a crucible where flesh is unmade and remade into something greater… and far more terrible.
The Breeding Grounds lie deep within the sealed swamps of Kearackinin, a place where even the mists dare not linger long. The air is thick with a stench that clings to your nostrils—rotting flesh, venomous sap, and something older, something wrong. The ground pulses beneath your claws like a living thing, and the waters bubble with black ichor. Here, among the twisted roots and fetid pools, stand the Birthing Eggs—great pulsating orbs that glow with a divine green light. These are no ordinary eggs, my hatchlings; they are the wombs of Sess’innek’s will, where chosen souls are entombed and reshaped into his perfect image.
A Trial of Blood and Bone
Not all who come to the Breeding Grounds are worthy of rebirth. Only those who have proven themselves through trials—through conquest, cunning, or survival in places like the Viscous Labyrinth—are brought here. Even then, their worthiness is judged by a conclave of Sess’innek’s shamans, who watch with cold eyes for any sign of weakness or doubt. Those found wanting are cast into the swamp to be devoured by its horrors; only the strongest and most loyal are permitted to take the next step.
The chosen are led to the Eggs by chanting priests—shamans like me, though of course I cannot tread there myself. They are stripped of all weapons and armour, for they will need none where they are going. Then they kneel before the glowing orbs as the priests carve Sess’innek’s sigil deep into their flesh with obsidian blades. Their dark blood flows freely into the swamp, feeding its hunger and marking them as sacrifices to our god-king.
The Entombment
Once the sacrifice has been marked, the egg splits open into a great mouth lined with fleshy tendrils that writhe hungrily as it drags its prey inside. The screams begin then, muffled but never silenced, as the egg seals shut. For days—or perhaps years; time means little in Kearackinin—the chosen soul endures a torment beyond imagining. Their body dissolves into a viscous sludge within the egg’s acidic interior, the flesh stripped away until only the essence remains.
But this is not death—it is transformation. The ancient magicks of Sess’innek flows through the egg like venom through veins, reshaping what remains of the chosen into something new. Their dreams are filled with visions of conquest and slaughter, whispered to them directly by Sess’innek himself. Every shred of flesh is unmade in this process; every doubt is consumed by his will. What emerges from the egg is no longer a petitioner—it is a Lizard King, reborn in Sess’innek’s image.
Rebirth
When the egg finally cracks open, what crawls forth is both magnificent and monstrous. Their scales gleam like polished obsidian, their claws drip with acid venom that can melt steel, and their eyes burn with an Abyssal fire that sees only domination. They stand taller than any mortal lizardfolk, their bodies rippling with unnatural strength. Yet it is not just their physical form that has changed; their minds are subservient to Sess’innek’s will. They live only because he wishes it so—to enforce his will and strengthen his dominion across Kearackinin.
Tread carefully in this life, little ones… for even greatness comes at a terrible cost.
Source: Jon Winter-Holt